


Taking, Giving

by daredevilmoon



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: BDSM, Erotica, M/M, Power Play, breath play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 03:09:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1924476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daredevilmoon/pseuds/daredevilmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It was freeing to so perfectly belong to another, even if only for the length of an evening.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking, Giving

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Crowbarrow, power play.

Philip knelt on the floor, blunt nails running down his thighs in anticipation for Thomas's touch; even just his attention would have seemed a reprieve. His knees ached for his position and his gaze drifted behind him to watch Thomas figure the knot, hoping it was nearing completion. Thomas glanced up at him and silently leaned over to place Philip's tie around his bared neck. Philip watched him wrap some of the extra fabric around his hand before suddenly jerking him backward, unbalancing him and holding him at an awkward angle against the bed. With a bit of effort, he struggled into a slightly more comfortable position as Thomas watched him with an almost impassive stillness.

"Get up,"  Thomas instructed, loosing his grip. "Come here."

Philip managed his way onto the bed  before he was pulled forward roughly as Thomas moved to sit sideways against the headboard. The end of tie was held pinioned beneath Thomas's hand against the duvet and Philip crawled on his hands and knees to meet him, keeping his gaze downcast as he was again left anticipating Thomas's actions.

He didn't know what Thomas was doing, exactly - indeed, wondered whether Thomas knew - but he was contented to allow as much as he could bear, to give what of himself  he could spare to his lover. Thomas, too, seemed to revel in what he could take - and Philip thrilled at that.

He was instructed to turn around, allowed to sit up for a moment to do so. After he had settled himself, Thomas's hand came up to grip at the tie until Philip's throat ached at the constriction, which began to pulse a strange pressure into his head. He locked eyes with Thomas, who slowly guided him backward so that he lay with his shoulders over Thomas's thigh.

They remained like that for a time; it seemed the most intimate thing Philip could think of, as Thomas slowly tightened and loosed the tie. Even something so autonomous as his breathing was something that could belong to Thomas. It was freeing to so perfectly belong to another, even if only for the length of an evening.

Thomas swallowed and looked away, as though gauging the depth of his thoughts, his hand steadily leading the path of his gaze down Philip's torso. His breath was shaky at Thomas's touch, body humming with the sensitivity of desire. Thomas pulled his head back, leaving him just enough air to keep him from going dizzy, and swept his calloused fingers in a rough circle around Philip's half-hard prick, cutting off his high-minded thoughts altogether.

"Look what I can do to you: I could use you like a Soho renter and you'd still beg for me, wouldn't you?"

Philip shuddered at the words as they touched at the baseness of his desires which he was giving himself over to, rolling his hips in time Thomas's motions. He agreed in a cracked voice, his hands trembling as he ran the flat of his palms and the pull of his nails over his belly, his thighs. As one hand met Thomas's, Philip's eyes shut for a moment at the pleasure - whereupon Thomas choked him more efficiently, cutting off all of his air.

A hideous jolt of panic ran through him, spoiling the perfection of the scene, as his hands immediately fluttered away  from himself, prompting Thomas to allow him his earlier breath. He groaned, the vibrations pooling in his throat, as he guessed at Thomas's game.

Thomas continued to massage Philip's prick, but with a tentativeness befitting something breakable. Philip tried to move with more fervour into Thomas's hand, but Thomas would always draw just far  enough away to lose contact, leaving him worse off. The room was silent but for Thomas's quiet breathing and Philip's thick sighs which echoed in his ears as his his desperation grew with each of Thomas's insubstantial touches.

His hands flexed against the  bed, twisting into the duvet until he finally brought his left to his throbbing prick, his relieved groan immediately cut off into a hoarse sound before it faded to nothing. That fluttering panic passed through him again, but he willed it down this time, knowing the game. He opened his eyes fully to watch Thomas watching him struggle for breath, a strange calm lurking just behind his ecstasy. His sight shattered for a moment, a dizzy wreck, and he moved his shaking hands to his stomach to allow himself a few moments of desperate panting.

His cock gave an impatient twitch at the sudden lack of  contact and, before he had time to think to do otherwise, he slid a hand down once more to take himself in hand. He masturbated himself roughly, twisting and gripping with a heedless need, as his mouth guttered for the feel of it. It felt as though he were drowning, the waves washing over his body, pulling him down, were those of crystalline pleasure.

Thomas was still appraising him with increasingly dark eyes, his skin flushed and beautiful; it seemed only fitting when pinpricks of light saw fit to burst him apart. Philip struggled to keep his eyes open and he could just see Thomas speaking, though he couldn't grasp what beneath  the ringing which seemed a bloody angel's choir.

The pleasure unfurled, spread further over him  and began to blot the world out, leaving his prick the nexus of his senses. His muscles contracted with the fervency of his impending release and, of a sudden, the world was restored - it felt as  though he were granted clemency from the darkness as sheer blinding pleasure erupted over him.

His breath was painful, hoarse and gasping, as he spent himself over his belly, tears of utter relief slipping down the sides of his face. He lay for a moment, unable to catch his breath, and reached his right hand up to Thomas's face, running his fingers through his hair in lieu of speech. Thomas moved his head into the touch.

"See," Thomas began, voice run through with lust, "you can't help yourself, can you? You need me more than air."


End file.
